


Two More Kisses For Obi-Wan

by jessebee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Era, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, First Kiss, Kiss Meme shorts, Kisses, M/M, Qui-Gon Lives, Slash, just a touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 05:43:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12881376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessebee/pseuds/jessebee
Summary: Two more bits from the kiss meme





	1. There, Too?

**17 Hungry kisses on every bit of newly visible skin as clothing is slowly peeled away**

 

 

 

Obi-Wan laughed softly and leaned back against him, alive and solid and right there in Qui-Gon's arms, and they watched the sunrise together. And that was enough. More than enough.

Until it wasn't.

Qui-Gon bent his head and tasted Obi-Wan's neck, the curve of shoulder where it emerged, tempting, from the worn neckline of Obi-Wan's sleep-tunic.

Obi-Wan tilted his head obligingly, a pleased noise escaping him, almost a felinoid purr. His hands covered Qui-Gon's where they rested around his waist. “Again?” he murmured, sounding not the slightest bit displeased.

Mouth occupied, Qui-Gon found and pulled the ties of Obi-Wan’s tunic open with the ease of a lifetime of practice, and pressed his mouth to the skin being newly revealed by the parting fabric. Encouraged said fabric along with a little tug when it didn’t part quickly enough.

“I remember, do I not, some remark, some-where, some-when, about being old … ?”

Qui-Gon chuckled. “You’re inspiring.”

Obi-Wan turned in his arms, and the brightening sunlight now behind him turned his skin luminous and fired his hair to molten copper. “Shall we move your ‘inspiration’ back to bed?”

Force, but he took Qui-Gon’s breath away. “No,” Qui-Gon said slowly, around the knot in his throat, and stepped back to look, to slide his hands along the edges of Obi-Wan’s tunic. “Here.”

Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder and back at Qui-Gon, his eyebrows rising and a wicked grin beginning to form. “Here? In front of the window and all of Coruscant?”

Qui-Gon couldn't take his eyes off of all that pale, warm skin. “Right here. In the light. I want to see you.”

The grin didn't fade but it morphed, somehow, into something else. Something filled with the kind of love Qui-Gon had never known, hadn’t actually believed existed, before this strong, stubborn, amazing, Force-lit soul had come into his life.

Obi-Wan leaned up and kissed him. “I am all yours.”

Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan’s sleep-tunic the rest of the way off, but slowly, so slowly, following the inches of revealed skin down his partner’s front with kisses and licks and little nips. Feeding. Feeding the desire for touch, the need for skin, for this man.

Oh and he'd been dying before, hadn't he? Dying a slow, starving death and he'd barely realized that he'd been hungry.

Warm velvet – Obi-Wan was warm, living velvet under Qui-Gon's mouth. He explored, learning the textures of shoulders and arms and ribs and chest. Climbing the ridge of collarbone and discovering the hard-soft peaks of nipples, savoring Obi-Wan's sighs of approval as Qui-Gon sucked them. Breathing in the unique smell of him, dust and spices, flavored with arousal. Mapping the beloved country without pause until Obi-Wan’s knees were trembling and the man was swearing at him, that urbane voice getting huskier as the tunic slipped further down.

They followed it to the floor and oh, new territory to roam! Beautiful strong back, hollow and hill and scar, lean muscle jumping under his touch. Obi-Wan was sweet-salt against his tongue and nothing, nothing had ever tasted as good.

Obi-Wan moved beneath him, hips pressing spasmodically into the floor as Qui-Gon counted vertebrae with his lips until he reached the elegant valley at Obi-Wan’s waist, and ran his fingers over the waistband of Obi-Wan’s sleep-pants.

And paused, as Obi-Wan tensed and stilled, and shivered.

Qui-Gon slipped his fingers beneath the soft fabric, over the rising curve. Dipping into the cleft.

The moan Obi-Wan let out raised every hair on Qui-Gon’s body.

“Over,” Qui-Gon growled, and didn't recognize his own voice. “Turn over.”

“Y-you've already done that side,” Obi-Wan said, his voice thick.

“Surely that's not a complaint.”

“Noo, no-no. Oh, no. Carry on.” Muscle flexed as Obi-Wan twisted, graceful even now, and settled onto his back with a groan. Which turned immediately into a gasp as Qui-Gon cupped one hand over his groin.

“Shall I take these off, as well?” Qui-Gon rumbled, pushing down as Obi-Wan pushed up helplessly, his erection hot and solid beneath the fabric and his arousal – their arousal – a thick, heady thrum in the Force.

Obi-Wan's eyes flashed open, and something primal in Qui-Gon quivered at the heat in their depths. “Oh, _yes_.”

The side-ties came undone easily, and Qui-Gon drew the crossed front panels apart, his breath coming faster. Freed, Obi-Wan's erection surged upward, seeking, foreskin already pulled away from the head, a glisten of moisture at its tip. Tempting. Beckoning.

Qui-Gon moved and Obi-Wan gasped again as Qui-Gon's fingers wrapped lightly around the base of the shaft, feeling silky heat and the soft crinkle of hair, and the throb of Obi-Wan's lifeblood just beneath. Qui-Gon heard him swallow.

“Are you?” Obi-Wan asked hoarsely.

Qui-Gon looked up, and the heat in Obi-Wan's eyes ignited fire along Qui-Gon's own skin. “Are you going to kiss me there, too?”

~~~ ~~~~

 


	2. When, At Long Last

_**10 ‘We might die tomorrow’ kiss** _

 

 

He stared at the door, and the smooth surface of it was mocking him, somehow, a taunt, hells almost a slap in the face, from one of the perhaps two people in the galaxy who could do this to him, drive him smack to the far far boundaries of Jedi control and tip him over. The. EDGE.

_**DAMMIT, QUI-GON!** _

Metal whined, the Force-stress of the shout actually flexing the walls outward before they snapped back in. The crack was loud enough to jerk Obi-Wan out of his fugue and back to the _now,_ and knock him backward onto the bunk, the room echoing with sound and the Force.

In another life he would have been horrified at the lapse, at the loss of control, but now he couldn't do anything but laugh at the ridiculous, cosmic irony of it all.

_The Force does answer, after all. Not with what we want but with what is needed._ _That it's not what_ **I** _need – is of no matter. Oh serenity, where are you now? In a minute or two, perhaps._

And laughed, because the alternative was no better.

He had no true sense of how long he'd lain there when the soft subvocal of the doorlock clicked, and –

“Obi-Wan.”

Ah, there it was. That tone. Perfectly calm, yet vibrating with disapproval and disappointment. Little gods help him, he might actually have missed that tone. “D'they teach that somewhere?”

Startlement. A sense of pause. “What?”

Oh, he'd gotten a new reaction. Mark up one for the former padawan. “When one achieves Mastery. Secret classes for it? Or does one have to have a padawan or three first?” He thought about lifting his arm in order to see his former Master's face, but the effort seemed too much. Besides, that weight across his eyes might just be the only thing that was keeping the last dregs of his composure from leaking out.

“We had not finished the discussion, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan snorted. “No?”

“We have our duties, Padawan!” Qui-Gon snapped. “You cannot stop me from going.”

_What?!_

Obi-Wan sat upright and flat-out gaped at him, and knew it for horrified disbelief, nothing less. “Is _that_ what you think? That I’d ask you to shirk our duty? Ignore the Force? That I would really ask –?”

Oh, that hurt.

_You're the same fool you've always been, Obi-Wan Kenobi_ _._ _Apparently_ _Knighthood doesn't change that._ “Force, it's a miracle you ever recommended me for the Trials, then, impending 'Chosen One' or not.”

Something shifted in Qui-Gon’s deep blue eyes. “Padawan – ”

_**No**_. On a hundred different levels, just _**no**_.

Obi-Wan flung up a hand and mercifully, amazingly, Qui-Gon fell silent.

Obi-Wan needed a moment to breathe, just breathe. Give everything to the Force, let it go, let it all go. Breathe.

Hope was the last, and the hardest, thing to die.

He opened his eyes and looked up again at the man he'd spent half his life living with, learning from, loving silently. Studied the face he knew perhaps better than his own: the craggy brows, the high forehead, the neat-clipped beard, the astoundingly azure-blue eyes.

A smile pulled at Obi-Wan's mouth and he let it, small, wry thing that it was. “Thirteen years, and more, with you. Half my life. And yet you don't know me.”

Qui-Gon's breath caught.

“We don't know each other at all, do we?”

“Obi-Wan – ”

“Ssht. No.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Jedi first; that's not a question. It's not even a _thought_. I only … ”

Breathe.

He looked down at his own hands, and forced them to unclench. “I only wanted – I have _always_ …  wanted _… ”_

What the hells. He couldn't shatter much more, there wasn’t anything left.

“I have wanted to share with you; to share myself with you. I even … I wanted to offer you my First Night, but … Well.”  Breathe.  Wryly, “that didn't happen. I … ” 

Obi-Wan looked back up and stopped short, struck. He'd never seen his teacher look like, like _that_. “Qui-Gon?”

Qui-Gon sank down to sit beside Obi-Wan on the bunk.  Quickly, as though there was a problem with his knees. “You – had – the usual 'padawan crush'.”

Why did the man sound so shocked? “I suppose I did.”

“You – desired me? Then?”

That  made Obi-Wan  smile  again ,  although it felt like it might crack his face . “I desire you now. That hasn't changed.”

“ _Why?”_

Obi-Wan felt his jaw drop, literally.  Could  his master  truly  _not know?_ The Force around them surged,  suddenly  thick  with both of their emotions,  with shock and  long-denied desire and  fear and –  dawning  hope. 

From both of them.

Hope.

Hope.

Reborn, it pushed, swelling beneath Obi-Wan's heart, welling up, unstoppable, and he reached, daring as he’d always wanted to, cupping the beloved face and feeling the springy-soft of beard against the palms of his hands. Even if it was only this once. “Did I really manage to hide it from you, all those years? Because I love you, Qui-Gon.”

A jagged, hoarse sound, like nothing he’d ever heard from this man before. Then Qui-Gon’s eyes kindled to blue flame, torch-hot and mesmerizing, before Obi-Wan lost sight of them as Qui-Gon leaned in and kissed him.

Kissed him.

Kissing. Him.

_Qui-Gon was_ _ **kissing him**_ _._ Obi-Wan moaned and opened his mouth.

He was trembling when the kiss broke, years later, and Qui-Gon hugged him close, beard tickling Obi-Wan’s throat as Qui-Gon buried his face in the curve of Obi-Wan’s neck and shoulder. Obi-Wan flexed his fingers where he’d dug them into his old Master’s hair and tried to remember how to breathe. Or speak. “ … Qui-Gon?”

“I love you, Obi-Wan.” Muffled by Obi-Wan’s tunics but still every word distinct, every one a precious shining gem. “I have loved you for a very, very long time.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Two more little bits from the kiss meme that went about tumblr, what feels like a long time ago now. I'd not realized these were still only on tumblr, so here, have them on AO3 as well :-)


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